


Pack is Stronger as a Whole

by MayAChance



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 61st Hunger Games, Gen, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 13:48:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4182147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayAChance/pseuds/MayAChance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the cusp of her seventeenth birthday, Cora Dericka Hale stepped forth in the Reaping and pronounced in as strong of a voice as she could find, "I, Cora Hale, volunteer as Tribute."</p>
<p>Nine years after Laura and Derek Hale died at each other's hands in the Hunger Games, their sister is out for blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pack is Stronger as a Whole

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Abel and Cain Ain't Got Nothing On Us](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146157) by [missmagoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmagoo/pseuds/missmagoo). 



> Heavily based on the piece 'Abel and Cain Ain't Got Nothing On Us' by missmagoo. I suggest you all go read that before reading this.

At the cusp of her seventeenth birthday, Cora Dericka Hale stepped forth in the Reaping and pronounced in as strong of a voice as she could find, "I, Cora Hale, volunteer as Tribute."

The Hale family was well-known amongst the people of all of the districts of Panem. The leader of the family, Talia, was among the earlier and younger victors to have survived the Hunger Games. Since her stunning victory, the woman had begun an academy to teach the youth of District Two the art of survival in the arena. When one entered the Hale Academy, they knew that either they would come out as a force that would not easily be forgotten. Each pupil was instilled with discipline, endurance, skill and fearlessness. An alumni who did not enter the games, for the victor of each game in the most recent fifteen years had been a pupil at the Hale Academy, found a job easily as a more important Peace-Keeper, a high-ranking military official or a security guard for the important of the capital.

It was not that it was merely a Hale entering the games that was the big news, rather what it represented. Nine years previously, the fifty-second Hunger Games, Cora's only elder siblings had entered the games as the first heirs to a victor and the second pair of siblings to fight in the games. In a stunning blow to the country of Panem, the Hale siblings had decimated the competition, leaving themselves as the only ones standing. The following morning, the pair had dueled to the death as dawn broke the sky. In the end, the winner had been the younger of the siblings, Derek, who had officially won the Hunger Games yet both who had suffered the consequences of doing so. It was Laura who delivered the first fatal blow and Derek who administered the second. In the end, both Hale's had bled out on the rocky outcrops where their battle had been fought.

Few knew the true reason both Hale children's deaths. Few knew the threats placed upon the Hale family of both siblings were not volunteered in one year.

"My darling victor," President Snow had begun his speech, "I have a proposition that I don't believe you can refuse. It has come to my attention that your daughter Laura will soon be loosing her chance at being a victor in the Hunger Games. Of course, she'll be volunteered this year, correct?" Talia Hale had nodded, disliking where the conversation was headed. "And you have a eligible son as well, Derek?" Another nod of confirmation. "Well that works out just perfectly now doesn't it. You see, Talia, people have been losing interest in the games and you know we cannot have that. I remember when you competed, brought the attention up with a spike. But what if your brother, Peter, had been in that game as well? Then what would have happened? Do you see where I'm going with this? Well, I suppose you do. I need both Laura and Derek in this years games. I need them to be pitted against each other as a final... show that will bring attention back to the games. And in the end, I need both to deliver a fatal blow. The price for not obeying? I do believe you have a little girl, no?"

That was it. Cora's life for Derek and Laura's.

Cora, at the young age of eight, had pleaded with her mother not to do it and she had agreed at her youngest child's pleas and threats.

Stupid, self-sacrificial Derek had to screw the whole thing up. The idiot had discovered that Cora would be killed him he did not volunteer- so he did in the place of the proper Tribute, a eighteen year old by the name of Jordan.

It was as though the balance of her world had been disrupted. She'd spent the evening screaming and crying in the immense, Hale home. Her mother had tried to soothe her and had sworn up and down that Derek had acted on his own accord. Cora had cried herself to sleep that night and had missed most of the games because she was unconscious in the local hospital from a lack of food and hydration. She'd been awake to see her sister kill her brother and vice versa. It tore her apart.

Later she was forced to watch the rest of the games, all of which was not a hundredth as terrible as her siblings tearing each other apart.

In public she was stoic and cold; in private she was broken and sad.

She volunteered nine long years after her siblings' historic deaths.

Amidst her interview with Caesar Flickerman, Cora was asked of her historic siblings.

Tilting her head to the side, Cora had replied. "Do you remember the night before their battle? When Laura told Derek she loved him before they parted ways? Laura hugged him and told him that she loved him. Derek did the same. Do you really think that Mother would have pitted those two against each other outside of training?"

Caesar smiled dazzlingly at Cora. "Well, she must have. They both volunteered if I recall."

"You recall," Cora assured him. "The plan for those games was to have Laura and a boy in her year named Jordan Parrish volunteer. Laura was supposed to come out as victor after an intense duel with Jordan at the end. She'd parade around afterwards as the second Hale victor. Two years later, Derek would volunteer and do the same as a third victor. Another seven after that and it would be me. Derek... he noticed the attention waning in the games in the years previous to his own. He knew Laura would bring up attention and also that she needed help doing it. So before Jordan volunteered, he did." She let out a hollow laugh. "They're both dead because of that choice. Of course, Derek had other motives that he told me about later- and no, I'm not going to tell you -but his main motive was to support the Capital and keep enthusiasm and interest in the games up."

A wary smile adorned Cora's face. "I'm here so that they can both win."

"And whatever do you mean by that, Cora?"

In response, Cora allowed the predatory grin of her sister slip onto the stoic mask of her brother. "I'm the combination of those two. My name is Cora Dericka. Laura Derek. I combine their every aspect in every possible way. If I win, they both win in a way. Watching from wherever they are, they can see that I will win for them."

Caesar ended the interview there.

In the initial blood bath, Cora slaughtered seven of the competition. Within the following hour, four more bit the dust. A total of two days brought down the numbers from thirteen to three. Cora, her district partner Isaac Lahey and the boy from District One, Jackson.

For the final kill, Cora teamed up with Isacc to endlessly circle the other tribute until they finally brought mercy upon him with a blade from each.

When Isaac asks what they are to do next, Cora gives her sister's predatory smile. "Oh please Ize, I'm not re-enacting my sibling's deaths." It takes a blade to the heart to fell the other Tribute.

The trumpets play and Cora is announced as the victor of the sixty-first Hunger Games.

Cora doesn't act surprised during her interviews not long later. She takes on Laura's act for this, correctly assuming that appearing bored was not a good way to make friends in other districts. Flickerman greets her with delight, politely shaking her hand before gesturing at the overly-comfortable chair for Cora to take a seat. The brunette does.

A few minutes into the interview, Caesar brings up a real question, something that wasn't a pleasantry. "You mentioned your siblings quite a bit in our previous interview. And with every Tribute you killed, you gave a few words afterwards "So we all may win." What do you actually remember about them?"

Ghostly like a flicker of her siblings passed, Cora smiles. "I remember that Laura read to me every night before tucking me into bed. She'd kiss my forehead and tell me not to let the bed bugs bite just like any normal big sister. Then in the morning, she'd help me with breakfast as Mother began the morning classes with her top students in one age group or another. I remember Derek giving me a hug every morning after he walked me to my classes before heading off to his own. He'd roll his eyes at me as he left- it was his own signature. I remember in the interviews how Laura addressed the other tributes with these stupid nicknames that were meant to destroy confidence. I remember you painting Derek as some sort of idiot and having his shirt cut away. He hated that you know. I remember them laughing out codes in the arena to let Mother and I know how they were doing. And... I remember them dueling to the death and I remember seeing the life slip from each."

She glances up from where he gaze had been locked on the ground. "I was eight and I remember everything about them. Their smiles and laughs and eye rolls... their fighting styles and their preferred weapons. Heck, I even remember that Derek never liked the fancy Capital food Mother used to bring home but how Laura adored it."

"That must have been very hard on you," comments Caesar, sympathetic.

Cora allowed a harsh laugh in response. "I remember past their deaths, too. Mother asked to bury them in the forests outside District Two near an old, burned out mansion that people say belonged to our District's ancestors. She was granted access to the forests for the day and we buried them side by side beneath a huge oak tree next to the old mansion. Then their names joined that of the other dead Tributes from District Two.

"People think we don't mourn our Tributes in District Two because they died as 'blood thirsty killers' but out Tributes are people who are exciting and interesting, the ones who will gain the most sponsors and have the best chance of survival. They're those who are bold and strong and they're what make the games interesting. If we saw blank faces killing each other, nothing about the games would be interesting. What makes the Hunger Games come to life is the people who are in it because they're interesting."

Caesar smiled and changed the subject. "I get the sense you know more than what you're telling us about your siblings' deaths. What can you tell us about that, Sweetheart?"

Instantly, Cora's features changed from ghostly calm to angry and brooding. "Let's just say that if any Hale is supposed to be dead, it should be me."

"Cora, you're blaming yourself for something that is not your fault and couldn't possibly be. From what you told us before, Derek entered of his own free will."

"He overheard a conversation. He heard something he, nor Laura, wasn't supposed to know and it drove him to volunteering." As usual, Cora's voice was cold and emotionless. "And he took it upon himself to do something incredibly stupid and explain the whole situation to Laura who instantly agreed to their plan."

The charming smile on Caesar's face drops slightly. "Tell me more about your sister Laura. She seems to have been a bit bitter. I seem to recall her once mentioning that she hated when people begged for their lives. What do you think of that?"

"The truth? I think Laura's absolutely right. Every career tribute in the games is there because they are prepared and ready to kill. If you don't want us to kill you, don't get found by us. Laura was merciful to him, made his end quick and moved onwards. Some would have simply tortured him for the sake of it. My darling uncle Peter, for example, would have. So by all means, the guy got lucky." I just wish I was that lucky.

Cora's final words remained unspoken, sadness rippling off of her in waves. Her siblings were dead and it was her fault.

Laura and Derek had sacrificed themselves for her.

Returning home from the victory tour was worse than Cora expected; she spent the train rides curled up next to her mother and half asleep, waiting out the long approach to their beautiful home. The Second District was located not far from the ocean, nestled in the middle of an ever-growing forest. It was warm during the summers and cold during the winters. The homes were well-insulated against both types of whether and each family worked their own part of the society. There were families that trained children for the Hunger Games, families that distributed food and so forth. Every person got at least a certain amount and, from there on, had the ability to buy more should they wish to do so.

The streets were clean and tidy, the homes just as polished. Cora hated the cleanliness then, the stark cold simplicity of the life that she had once known.

In Cora's own room, a space of ten feet by the same, things were more chaotic. The black wall behind Cora's bed was painted with wolf's head in red, tilted upwards with it's mouth agape as though howling at a moon above. At the bottom of the image, the paint was streaming downwards. Around and connected to the wolf, flowering vines appeared and swirled into the oblivion of Cora's walls, two flowers of their own on the middle of the wolf's silhouette. The shades were base of blood red, darkening in places and changing to slightly purple in others. Above the wolf, Cora's mantra made an appearance: "PACK is STRONGER as a WHOLE."

Cora's own bed was perfect after her time away, black covers resting lightly over equally dark sheets. Her pillows, black and red in colour, were fluffed and tidy. Her bedside table, an unfortunate shade of brown, was home to a lamp glowing with pale yellow light that was the only light in the room.

On the dresser pressed against one wall in a corner rested a knife. The hilt was worn wood and the blade steel with an inscription; 'ABENS HAERES NON ERIT'. Out of sight, out of mind. Never had words less true been spoke. In all the long years since her sibling's deaths, Cora had not once stopped thinking of them. And her mother, sitting at the kitchen table with a knife of her own, was in Cora's mind and she in her mother's.

Grasping the knife in her hand, Cora smiled sadly. Her fingers rubbed over the words resting on the blade before sighing. She would be seeing her father and siblings soon.


End file.
